Sketch Me
by G05
Summary: Naruto Uzumaki died as a child; just 8 years old. The village was crushed by the loss of the Namikaze heir, the 4th Hokage and his wife especially. So when Sai, who had been in ROOT for the majority of his life, starts sketching a mysterious blond boy with exotic blue eyes, what happens when his Super Beast Imitating Drawing jutsu creates something more than art?
1. Chapter 1

**I know, I know. It's been ages! I swear, I have written some stuff for my other stories. The next chapters of ANB and Lost will probably be posted either today or tomorrow. Sorry about that!**

 **Anyhow, this weird ass plot came to me. Let's see if it goes anywhere!**

 **Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own.**

 **Summary: Naruto Uzumaki died as a child; just 8 years old. The village was crushed by the loss of the Namikaze heir, the 4** **th** **Hokage and his wife especially. So when Sai, who had been in ROOT for the majority of his life, starts sketching a mysterious blond boy with exotic blue eyes, what happens when his Super Beast Imitating Drawing jutsu creates something more than art?**

Minato uneasily glanced at the sky as thick clouds rolled in. The sky was black with darkness, a slim streak of red peeking through the clouds as the sun set. It was a dark omen, one speaking of death.

He reached towards his wife, who had just recently put their son, Naruto, to bed. The boy was loud and bright, bringing light to the world around him. Naruto did what Minato could not and stopped the Uchiha's from rebelling by befriending their youngest and convincing the clan they could be more than what they made themselves out to be.

He convinced two boy-crazy girls to think for themselves.

He convinced a relatively old woman to let one last person into her heart.

He even managed to convince Jiraya to write a book that wasn't about porn. It was called "The Tale of a Gutsy Ninja."

One by one, Naruto wiggled his way into Konoha's members hearts.

So, when Minato went to bid his son goodnight and founded him sprawled out on the ground, throat slit and a sword through his chest, you can imagine how he wept. How the village wept, because of the loss of the dazzling Namikaze heir who brought the light.

The only hint of whom the murder had been was the fact that the assailant cared to carve three perfectly symmetrical lines on each cheek.

And so, with his death, the lights which had been brought into people's lives vanished.

So Minato threw himself into his work while Kushina searched for answers. Tsunade returned to a life of drinking and gambling. Sakura and Ino stopped pursuing their dreams, and the Uchiha's grew impatient and angry. Jiraya returned to a career of perving around, and all the people who had once been greeted by the young boy began to darken.

And so when Sai came to the Hokage eight years later, holding a sketch of a young man who he had most _certainly_ never met, the village was outraged. A portrait of what seemed to be the Fourth Hokage at first, but was later examined to seem much younger, and far more beautiful. With Kushina's angular cheekbones and slim shoulders and Minato's chiseled jaw line and rugged hair, it was no question who the drawing was of. Three identical scars adorned each cheek, and a bright smile was spread across the boy's handsome face.

Sai only wondered who the boy was. Why he continually was making his way from Sai's mind to paper. He showed the Hokage his sketchbook, full of dozens upon dozens of sketches of the _same_ boy, over and over again. Different angles and different positions drawn elegantly spread across hundreds of pieces of paper.

The Hokage was frightened, wondered if it was a sign that Sai, who had never _seen,_ much less heard about his son. The subject was taboo and Sai, who had only recently been introduced to a world outside Root, could have never _ever_ understood who he was drawing.

Minato and Kushina watched as Sai sat in front of them, dragging his paintbrush across paper. Before they knew it, they were looking at another picture of their child.

"Lord Hokage, I haven't been able to draw anything other than this boy for weeks. Who is he?"

 **WTF is this I dunno but whatever this might be fun. I mean, it certainly hasn't been done before.**


	2. Chapter 2

**And we're rolling.**

 **To all my faithful followers; I'm sorry. I am so so so so so so sorry for being such an asshole and not posting for so long. I suck, I know, but a lot is going on. I will eventually work on my other stories as well! That's a promise. So hang in there!**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own.**

Swift, agile strokes of a paintbrush created the image of a smiling teenage boy, three whisker marks adorning each cheek. Sai clenched his fists in frustration. Over and over again, this boy, this image, kept finding its way to his sketchbook.

The last mission he went on with his team almost got the entire squad killed. He had one job – to create a distraction. But each time ink touched paper, the same image of _that_ smiling face would force its way onto the scroll.

And what was Sai supposed to do? For someone who was praised by ROOT as such a prodigy, he continually failed. He approached the Hokage with his dilemma and the man immediately panicked and demanded he be put off his shinobi duties until the mystery was solved. What was the big deal anyway? It's just a kid, probably about Sai's age.

Sai crumpled up the piece of paper in frustration, throwing the drawing of the boy into a wastebasket, where several other scrolls and sketches of the boy were scattered around. For the first time in years, Sai felt a genuine emotion. It was unfortunate that this first display of emotion in so long had to be so negative.

The next day, when Sai picked up the brush again, the portrait of the boy was scowling, eyes burning with fury. It was the first illustration of the boy which hadn't been smiling. Sai decided to report this to the Hokage, as some sort of development.

Voices were hushed and the secretaries were acting as if they were walking on glass. Each step was careful and silent, as if trying to not disturb something.

Sai, with his usual disregard for his surroundings, knocked rather loudly on the doors to the Hokage's office.

"Hokage-sama, I have some developments on my current situation."

When Sai received no answer, he gingerly pushed open the doors. It took him a moment to spot the familiar yellow hue of his leaders' hair, before finding Minato sitting on the floor, his wife next to him. They were flipping through a book of sorts, perhaps an album. With the position the two were sitting in, Sai couldn't seem to get a glance.

"Hokage-sama?" Sai called, prompting the couple to turn around.

Kushina had a dreamy smile on her face, barely glancing at Sai before returning her eyes to her hands, where a laminated photo was gripped tightly, the edges worn. Minato was distant, taking more than a few moments to finally respond.

"Sai, my apologies. I'm a bit out of it today." Minato said with a tired grin. "What can I do for you?"

Sai, suddenly self-conscious under his leaders' steady gaze, retrieved the folder of papers from under his arm.

"Hokage-sama, there is something I'd like to show you. About the artwork I've been producing lately."

Sai sat on the ground across from Minato and began to remove his drawings from the folder one by one. Each picture was dated, Sai's simple, yet elegant handwriting adorning each page. Every single illustration of the boy was cheery, except for the ones Sai had drawn this very morning.

"It seems as if the character I've been drawing is always smiling, yet today I can't seem to draw him in a way other that angry, or sad. Is there some significance behind today?" Sai questioned, his emotionless face tight with strain. Confusion reflected in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had come, his mask slipping back on.

Minato sighed, touching the papers as if they were fine china, being as careful as one would be with a precious relic. Kushina, after taking one glance at all the sketches, immediately broke out into heart wrenching sobs.

The Hokage put a comforting hand on his wives knee before turning to Sai.

"At the very least, you should understand who you're drawing, Sai. This boy is my son, who was murdered in cold blood eight years ago."

Sai sat in awe, never hearing of such a child before. Minato, looking far older than he is, ran a hair delicately through his hair.

"He would be your age right about now, seventeen. He was killed on this very day at the tender age of nine. He was going places. He was going to change the world for the better. But then he died, just like that. He vanished from the world and all the good he did disappeared as if he was never there. We never found the culprit either. No sign of entry from a ninja from outside the village, no sign of a traitor either." Minato clenched his fists, an angry scowl on his face. "Whoever did it was damn good."

Kushina placed a hand on his shaking shoulders, calming the Hokage down immediately. She smiled wearily, before turning back to the pictures.

A rock settled into Sai's stomach. This scenario put Sai on edge, and he couldn't quite explain why.

Minato reached across the floor and grasped one of Sai's forearms.

"You need to stop drawing Naruto. If people see these paintings, in will bring up memories that many of us would rather forget at this point. It will never stop hurting that he's gone, but we need to move on. And you're making it harder for us to do that. Please, Sai. You need to stop."

 **XxXxXx**

Sai couldn't stop.

Every since the Hokage said to stop, he couldn't sleep or eat or even get up to use the bathroom. His entire life revolved around sketching Naruto in various poses and expressions. He was back to turning out happy again, and Sai didn't draw another illustration with Naruto's burning eyes.

Sai's apartment was covered in drawings, and he feared that he would run out of space to store them. They were already pinned to all his walls and scattered across the floors. They were in cabinets and stuffed in dressers and shoved in places Sai didn't know his apartment had.

This _obsession,_ this _craving_ to draw this boy over and over again had forced Sai to sit in one place for nineteen hours. The black haired teen reached for another sheet of paper only to come up empty. Sai pulled at his hair in frustration once more, before grabbing his scroll used for his art jutsu and began to draw once more. This time, he drew a diagram taking up the majority of his scroll, which had the boy's exact measurements. His height, weight, and size were all taken into account as Sai scribbled across the page anxiously. When Sai got to his face, he found that the boy's eyes were narrowed in mischief, a sinister grin on his face.

And when he finished, Sai lost consciousness.

 **What is this oh god I love it**


End file.
